Companionship
by KingWykkyd57
Summary: It's the night of the ball, but not all are in attendance. Hanneman was never one for parties. As it turns out, neither was Byleth. (First Hanneman x Byleth? Maybe?)


**My girlfriend says I have an "old man" fetish just because Hanneman is lowkey my favorite Three Houses character. This story really isn't helping my case.**

**...**

Even locked away in his office, surrounded by papers he had yet to grade, the music coming from the ball still managed to reach poor Hanneman's ears. The tired old professor sighed and leaned back in his chair, taking the opportunity to stretch his aching back. "I'm getting to old for these parties." he murmured to himself.

The noise reminded him too much of his days of nobility, too much of the dark memories linked to his time in the Empire. He had worked here at the academy for years and years, yet the music always came year round to cruelly prick at his ears, and he wished he could simply shut it off forever.

It wasn't like he didn't wish for his students to enjoy themselves, goddess knows they've needed the chance to relax and have fun like youths were meant to. But could they do it more _quietly, _at least once?! Hanneman removed his monocle and pinched the bridge of his nose. 'If one could hear my thoughts, I'd bet they'd think me a selfish man,' he sighed.

Him, selfish?! BAH! Here he was, constantly pushing himself to better both his students and the world at large! Did anyone actually realize how hard crestology is as a field of study?! He should be praised for his work, not mocked as the faculty's resident loon! Blast them all, he'd say, for tossing his selflessness aside for simple jests!

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. "Come now, Hanneman," he scolded, "your age is ruining your mind."

'I won't lose sight of why I do this...'

Down below, the music swelled, and he could only imagine the joy and laughter the students were experiencing. Ah, so that's what agitated him...that damn music. Paying close attention, he could now recognize the piece. A tune he hadn't heard in years, not since his earliest lessons in the waltz. Once more, a sour taste rose in Hanneman's mouth, a deep rooted anger bubbling in his chest. Yes, it was a classical piece of the Empire, that damned place that ruined his worldview, shaped him into the man he had become, took something very precious away from him, and encouraged a culture of ignorance and greed.

He prayed his students would be able to rise above their parents' wretched nests, prove to him that his efforts to educate the masses on crests weren't in vain!

Crests...in the end, that's all his thoughts seemed to revolve around. Hanneman pushed his papers away and reached for the drawer, pulling out a glass and a bottle of alcohol Manuela had gifted him as a gag, probably never expecting him to put it to use. Of course, that was a reasonable assumption, Hanneman never claimed to have an appreciation for the taste of liquor. It was a rare treat for himself, when he would find himself spending his nights alone without the company of friends. Crests...the subject didn't leave him with many people he could truly call friends. Colleagues, perhaps. His fellow educators could at least count on him to do his damn job.

Did he ever truly have friends, he wondered. The thought was a depressing one that dampened his mood further, and he quickly swallowed the glass, scrunching his face up and grunting in discomfort as the fiery liquid slid down his throat. Bloody hell, he never even had a woman to call his own! Most men his age at least had...some experience in courtship. Most men his age would've settled down and started a family some twenty years ago, he figured. Hanneman...was not most men. It wasn't surprising, most women were attracted to his status initially, but quickly grew bored of his interests, yawning as the nodded along to his theories about crests- Ah, there he went again, old fool.

Hanneman peered over his desk to the seal that sat center of his office, the one he used to observe crests. He raised his glass and gave a sad chuckle. "A toast, dear friend," he falsely cheered, "to another successful year of just us!"

A cough came from the other side of the door.

Hanneman shot up and cleared his throat, trying to calm himself down from his embarrassing display that someone had mistakenly witnessed. "Um...Do come in," he said, hiding his bottle and glass back in their drawer.

The academy's newest professor poked her head in, clearing her throat. "I was just passing by when I heard you speaking," she explained, her voice cool and methodical. "I wanted to check to see that you were alright."

"Ah, yes, Professor-"

"No titles, Hanneman, you don't require me to use yours."

"Miss Eisner, then," Hanneman decided as the woman closed the door. "Yes, I'm sorry you overheard my display, I just...er..."

She chuckled and walked around his desk, leaning against it. "It is alright, Hanneman. You thought you were alone. You weren't. Mistakes happen."

Hanneman winced. Ah, yes...Miss Eisner was a very blunt, straightforward person. She called it like she saw it, as the students would say. "Forgive an old man," he said, "my thoughts aren't what they used to be."

"You're not that old, Hanneman."

The scholar chuckled sadly. "That's kind of you, but my hair will only get grayer." He glanced up and noticed how she leaned against his desk. "Oh!" he exclaimed. "My apologies, I don't have an extra chair, I wasn't expecting visitors...Er, you can have mine."

"That is quite alri-"

"Mo, please!" Hanneman stood up and extended the chair. "I insist, Miss Eisner. Apologies, you caught me at an awkward time..."

Byleth gave him a worried look, or at least the closest her stoicism could appear to be worried. "Are you sure?" she asked. "I can leave if you're-"

"NO!" Hanneman barked before he could stop himself. He flinched and cursed himself, before taking a deep breath and composing himself. "I...I would appreciate the company, it's quite a lonely night, better spent with...colleagues."

Byleth nodded, and sat down in the offered chair, crossing one leg over the other. Hanneman gulped and glanced away from the woman's tights, which, as no man would deny, showed off her legs a little too well.

There was no beating around the bush, Byleth was an extraordinarily beautiful woman. Her calm and aloof aura attracted many eligible men, whether she realized it or not. Not just her looks, but the way her words had a calming, harmonious way to them that left everyone she spoke to a little happier than how they started. Truly, she was a spectacle to behold, a blessing to the academy, one Hanneman, quite shamefully, was thankful for. His mind was reminded of his thoughts right before the professor had knocked on his door, the...loneliness he had felt. He truly was a sad, sad man, worrying about companionship while the world around him danced and sang.

'I'm too old for schoolboy crushes,' he thought, frowning. Byleth glanced up and noticed it right away, and she tilted her head curiously.

"Not much for parties, I reckon?" she guessed.

Hanneman chuckled and nodded, turning his gaze towards the window. "Not much, I'm afraid," he answered. "Too much noise, and I prefer staying out of noble affairs."

"It's not just nobles down there," Byleth said, leaning back in the chair. "Though, I agree. I'm happy my students are able to finally enjoy themselves, but it's all still quite new to me. I'd rather spend my time away from it all."

Hanneman smiled and nodded. "Amen to that, I say." he agreed. He paused for a moment, then chuckled. "You care deeply for your students, don't you?"

"Of course," Byleth replied simply. "The Golden Deer, they're...they're like my family."

'Family...' Hanneman noted, closing his eyes. 'How long has it been since I've seen my family? Not long enough...'

"I'm glad to hear it, Miss Eisner," he said, turning back towards the woman. "You are a blessing to those student's, I'd reckon. They're so lucky to have a professor like you."

He could've sworn the faintest of blushes appeared on her cheeks, but it was gone in an instant. "Thank you," she muttered. "I believe your students might be lucky as well, having a professor as wise as you guiding them."

Hanneman chuckled sadly and shook his head. "I...I suppose. From an academic standpoint."

"Hm?" Byleth was curious now, and he felt her stand up behind him.

"I...I'm not much for...companionship." Hanneman admitted, scratching his cheek. "I...know of my reputation around here. As the crazy kook. It's an ongoing pattern, I've never had much of the luxury of friendship, or love for that matter. Most women just tend to...run off!" He chuckled.

"What about me?" she asked.

Hanneman sputtered and turned around. "I-I beg your pardon?"

"Are we not friends?" she clarified. "I wasn't aware of your reputation, as you call it."

"Ah, yes, I see..." Hanneman cleared his throat. "I must admit I'm a little surprised, Miss Eisner. I didn't know you thought of me as such."

"Why wouldn't I?" Byleth blinked. "I admit I'm a little unfamiliar with such concepts, but I believe what I feel for you is friendship."

"What you...feel for me?" he murmured under his breath. He shook his head and sighed. "In...In any case, I'm afraid I don't have the same camaraderie with the Blue Lions as you do with the Golden Deer. I care for them, of course, but as a teacher cares for his students."

"I see."

Hanneman rubbed his chin in thought, then gazed out his window once more. "Perhaps...that's why so many seem so eager to join your class." He gritted his teeth together. 'Have I...failed my students?' he wondered.

"What was that, Hanneman?" she asked him.

"Oh?" he grunted. "Nothing, nothing. I assure you."

"Hanneman...you fool..."

Hanneman stiffened, and turned around with a raised eyebrow. "I beg you par-" He paused, and then audibly gulped. Byleth stared straight through him with unreadable eyes, holding up the bottle of alcohol in her hand.

"Ah, you see..." he trailed off, frowning. "I'm sorry, Miss Eisner...I told you, you caught me at an awkward time."

"I would've expected this from Manuela," she replied curtly, face set in stone. "In fact, I would've accepted this. But you? This is not like you, Hanneman. I don't need two alcoholic coworkers."

"It's not like that, I promise you," he tried assuring. "It's a rare occasion, I don't partake in it nearly as much as Manuela."

"It's not like you," Byleth repeated. "I suspected something was off the moment I walked in, I was waiting for you to tell me. But instead I discover my father's favorite brand sitting in your office." Her eyes narrowed, a sight no mortal wanted to see, regardless of her beauty. "Hanneman, you old kook, explain your behavior to me."

"I-It's really not something you should worr-"

"As a friend, please." She was standing now, not letting go of the bottle.

This should've been absurd. Hanneman was her senior, a grown man with a highly respectable career! Byleth barely reached his chin, she wore a dirtied, tattered outfit not fit for someone in her station, and yet...

He faltered.

"It always happens this time of year," he started. "It reminds me too much of painful memories. It reminds me of why I abandoned my noble status so long ago. It reminds me of how much ridicule I receive from those outside the field of crestology. It...It reminds me of how lonely I truly am..."

Byleth's eyes softened.

"I wonder how many years I've wasted," Hanneman sighed, turning back towards the window. "Years wasted on my work. I love my work, Miss Eisner, I truly do! I love teaching the new generation, I love researching crests, I love ALL of it!" He closed his eyes. "But...what else do I have outside of it? How many times have I thrown away the chance for true friendship, the chance for true love? I don't know the first thing about human connection, and my age is catching up with me fast. How will I ever find someone to share my life with? How will I ever find someone to share my work with? To share my passion with? When I'm gone, who will carry on my research for me? Who will carry on my memory?"

Ah...was it raining? Hanneman felt something wet run down his face. Rain...but how could it rain indoors? How absurd!

His shoulders shook and he drew in a shaky breath. "It seems I throw away everything that comes my way that isn't a crest," he chuckled bitterly. "I throw it away, just like the nobles I hate so much. Everything gets thrown away...and the years go on and on."

Oh...so it wasn't rain, he realized. Tears...When was the last time he cried? Was it when his sister had died trying to provide that pathetic noble with crests? It must've been...Goddess, how long had he been holding his frustrations in?

"I really am an old fool..."

He wasn't aware Byleth had moved until she took his arm in hers, and leaned her head against his shoulder. The scholar stiffened, and his mouth flopped up and down like a fish. "M-Miss Eisne-"

"Byleth, please," she cut him off, lightly slapping his arm. "I call you by your name, no reason you shouldn't call me by mine."

"Byleth..." he murmured, testing the name. It was...unique. Almost otherworldly. He wanted to say it again. "Byleth..."

"You never threw me away, Hanneman," she whispered, clutching his arm tighter. "I'm still here...And if you feel like you threw the others here away, then we can pick them back up together."

"I...I'd like that..." Hanneman choked, wiping his tears away.

The two stood in silence as the music below swelled up once again. It spread over them, and Byleth glanced up at the man she leaned against, a faint smile on her face. "You know..." she said. "The music isn't actually that bad."

Hanneman allowed himself to listen to it for a few moments, before chuckling and nodding. "I hate to admit it, but I must agree..."

"You used to be a noble, yes?"

"I- yes, I was."

Byleth pulled away and took hold of the scholar's hands. "Teach me how to dance," she requested.

Hanneman's mouth fell open, and he hadn't realized his monocle had fallen off his face. "I beg your pardon?"

"Teach me how to dance," Byleth repeated, eyes filling with mirth. "I never learned."

"I-I should admit, Byleth," Hanneman stammered, "I never was the greatest at dance practice."

"So?" she raised an eyebrow. "Let's make this night a good memory, for once."

She led him to the center of his office, Hanneman taking precaution to avoid his seal. "We can't do this here," he protested. "That seal cost me thousands, I wouldn't want to dama-" He was silenced by Byleth placing her finger over his lips, a playful frown on her face.

"No talking, especially about your work," she demanded, lowering her finger. "For now..." She took hold of his hand, and shifted it down to her waist, letting it rest there. "Let me be your companion, Hanneman."

**...**

**This will be my last story of the decade, so I'll see you guys in 2020! I hope you enjoyed, feel free to leave a review! And of course, remember to stay wykkyd!**


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